Dancer, Prancer, Donner and SteeleTranscribed from the Episode Written
by:Elliot Lewis and Michael Gleasonand Christopher Hibler

As Sonny Averona sings "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas",
we see a gun laying on a table. It's picked up by a man wearing
a Santa Claus suit, who stuffs it into his waist before fastening
the oversize belt and admiring his reflection.

***

At the offices of Remington Steele Investigations, the decorated
reception area is filled with people. Mildred is carrying a plate
of Christmas cookies. "Merry Christmas," she tells a
couple as they leave, then grabs another man's glass. "Here.
Let me fill that for you," she says, taking it to the punch
bowl.

A man asks, "Who made the eggnog, Mildred?"

"I did. From my mother's recipe."

"Apparently Mom was a teetotaler. A little bit light on
the rum."

"We wouldn't want to send anyone home half-gassed,"
she replies.

"Well, I'll just finish this up and be on my horse,"
he tells her. "Judith and the young ones await."

"Thanks for stopping by, Jack," she tells him. "Merry
Christmas."

"Merry merry," he repeats, lifting his cup.

Mildred taps on Steele's door and opens it. "Boss,"
she says, finding him at the window, looking outside. He turns,
a dour expression on his face. "Come on out and join the
fun."

"It's obscene, Mildred," he remarks, turning to the
window again.

She comes farther into the room. "What is?"

"I tried to play tennis this morning," he informs
her. "It was too hot."

He takes it. "Thank you, Mildred. I have to go out for
a few minutes, okay? Nice to meet you," he tells Eva.

"Bye."

He starts toward the door, but Jack stops him. "Hey, Steele,-"

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't have anything to give this a little more
Christmas spirit, if you know what I mean, would you?"

"Miss Krebs is in charge of the spirit, okay. Excuse me,
will you?"

"I can't stay long," Eva says again.

He waves, nods, trying to get to the door. "Okay."
He's hailed by a woman and turns to greet her.

"Mr. Steele!"

"Yes?"

"Allison Greene."

"Hello."

"Cohen, Campbell and Carstairs on 22?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Excellent attorneys."

Allison fades a bit. "We're an advertising agency."

"I'm sorry. I got my Cohens confused. Well, it's always
delightful to meet ones neighbors. I suggest you talk to the plant
lady. She can't stay long." He shakes her hand again and
turns once more toward the door. A short little man stops him.

"Psst! How are your feet?" he asks.

"My feet?"

"Dr. Scabbard," he says. "S. Wilson Scabbard.
On eight." He pulls out a card.

"A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Scabbard."

"I am a podiatrist. And I couldn't help noticing, but
you seem to be favoring your left foot. What is it? Corn? Bunion?
Ingrown toenail?"

"New shoes," Steele informs him.

"'There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip, nay,
her foot speaks.' Do you know who said that?"

Laura exits the elevator, her arms filled with presents as
another Santa comes from the other elevator. He stops her. "Hey,
which way is the Remington Steele office?"

"You're a little late aren't you? Weren't you supposed
to be here at two?" Laura asks him with a frown. "Come
on." She leads him into the office. "Merry Christmas,
everybody, how's the party-" she sees the first Santa's gun.
"Going."

"Oh, yes," Jack says, looking at his watch. "My,
my, look at the time. Kiddies are waiting for me. I have to decorate
the tree and all that. Christmas Eve and all. They'll be wondering
what happened to Daddy."

Dancer points his gun at them. "Take one more step and
they'll be READING about what happened to Daddy," he warns.

"Is this a robbery?" Allison asks. "Because
if it is, I have nothing. I have absolutely nothing of value."
She sees them glance at her. "Oh, this isn't a real Cartier
watch. No, no, it's a knock off. Like they make in Hong Kong?"

Another Santa enters the office. "Donner?" Dancer
asks.

"Prancer?"

"No, no," Prancer explains. "I'M Prancer, he's
Dancer."

Donner comes in and Dancer asks, "Make your deliveries?"

"Right on schedule."

Scabbard makes a break for the door, but Dancer shoots him
in the foot. Laura and the others start toward him, but Dancer
turns the gun back toward them. "Damn silencer," Dancer
declares. "It throws off your aim, you know? You're lucky,
Pop. I was trying to hit you in the gut!" Scabbard is holding
his foot. "Lock it," Dancer tells Donner.

"Let me get this straight," Laura says, confronting
them. "We're being held prisoner by a bunch of Santas?"

"You got it, Pretty face," Dancer confirms.

"What now?" Donner asks.

"We wait," Dancer tells him.

"What- exactly are we waiting for, gentlemen?" Steele
asks.

"Blitzen," Dancer says.

***

As we hear the refrain of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town,"
Dancer tells the others, "You know what to look for."

Donner goes into Steele's office, where Steele and Laura are
helping the injured Dr. Scabbard to the sofa. "Sit yourself
down there," Steele says. He starts removing Scabbard's shoe
while Laura goes to the bathroom under Donner's watchful eye.

"Sorry," Steele apologizes as Scabbard groans. He
removes the sock. "Doesn't look too serious," he declares
as Laura returns with a towel and first aid kit. "Think it
only grazed the foot."

"It is kind of ironic, though," Laura says.

"What?" Scabbard asks. "What's ironic?"

"A podiatrist being shot in the foot," she explains
as she cleans the wound.

"I don't find it to be ironic. I find it to be very-painful."

"You really put your foot in it that time, Laura, eh?"
Steele asks.

"What kind of confidence are my patients gonna have in
me if they see me walking around with a limp?" Scabbard asks.
Donner heads toward the desk.

"I should have gone straight home," Scabbard tells
them. "I don't even celebrate Christmas. It's not fair. It's
not fair, getting shot on a holiday that you don't even celebrate.
I got a good mind to sue you," he tells Steele. "After
all, this happened on your premises. It's your legal responsibility."

"What? What do you mean? Look, I can't afford to die.
Not now. I just opened up a branch office in Encino. I'm very
highly regarded in my field," he tells Steele and Laura.
"I have been called the Podiatrist to the Stars."

"Where is it?" Donner asks.

"What?" Laura asks.

"Your hardware."

Laura glances at Steele. "This may sound lame, but we
have trouble locating it ourselves sometimes."

Donner tells them, "Listen, let me tell you for your own
good. Come up with the hardware. Now, Dancer likes to use that
gun. You saw what he did to the doc. Give him an excuse, and he'll
do worse to all of you."

Steele smiles at Donner. "Well, uh, perhaps I can assist
you in here, eh?"

***
In the reception area, Mildred is nibbling on a cracker when Laura
comes out.

"Where are you going?" Dancer asks her.

"You want the Agency gun? It might be out here."

"No, why don't you sit down?" he suggests. "Take
some weight off those lovely ankles of yours." She sits.
"You look, Brunhilda," he tells Mildred. She glares
at him, looks as if she might tell him off, then starts going
through the files.

"Excuse me," Jack asks, "Do you mind if I get
some more eggnog? My throat's parched."

Dancer waves him over, then approaches Eva, who's watering
a plant in the corner. "You're going to DROWN IT!" he
accuses.

She turns to him. "It's dying! Don't you understand? It
needs food and water. And sunshine." She's almost in tears.
"It shouldn't be locked away here in this fluorescent dungeon."

"What are you? One of those hippies? You got a peace sign
tattooed on your butt?"

"A plant's a living, breathing thing!" Eva insists.

Laura comes over and gives her a hug. "It's alright, Eva.
It's all right." She leads the crying girl away. "Everything's
going to be fine. Come on."

"Hey, Eggnog," Dancer asks Jack, "You one of
them peaceniks too?"

"ME? No, I'm just a stockbroker."

"Was you in the Army?"

"Um, actually- no. I was 4F." Mildred finds the gun
and stuffs it into the front of her dress. "I had rheumatic
fever as a child."

"Bet you had a note from your doctor," Dancer sneers
as Laura joins Jack.

"Were you in the service?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"See any action?"

Mildred comes around behind Laura and Jack, her hand on the
gun, waiting for an opening.

"Enough. Enough to get a Silver Star. They don't just
hand them around, you know. You gotta waste a lot of slugs to
get a Silver Star."

Mildred's about to make her move when Allison comes up and
blocks the way. "I have had JUST about enough of this. Now
my secretary knows I'm down here. And if I don't return, he's
going to get very suspicious."

"You drop him," Dancer says, "I drop you. Or
I may just blast right through him, and then when he goes down-"

"Hey," Donner objects. "Come on, Dancer."

"Shut up. Now, either way, I'm gonna use you for target
practice, Brunhilda," he promises.

Mildred sneers and pulls back the hammer. Suddenly Steele jumps
them from behind and grabs the gun. He rises to his feet, gun
in hand. "Get up," He tells the other Santas. "Move."
He stands there, holding the gun on Dancer.

"Go ahead, pretty boy," Dancer says. "Take your
best shot. You get me before I get you, all these nice people
can go home."

"Do it, Steele!" Jack calls.

"Pull the trigger," Allison tells him.

"What's the matter, pretty boy? Ain't any of these slugs
worth dyin' for?"

Steele stands there for a moment, then releases the hammer
on the gun. "No," he says.

"Boss." Mildred looks up from the floor, upset and
disbelieving as Steele lowers the gun to the floor.

"Kick it over here," Dancer tells him. He does, and
Dancer picks it up, putting it into his belt.

Laura looks at Steele as we hear "Deck the Halls."

***

Later, Steele and Mildred are sitting on the sofa in the main
room. She's fanning him as he sits there. The others are scattered
around the room, as if they don't want anything to do with Steele
now. "Oh, don't blame yourself, Chief. I don't know what
anyone would have done in that situation."

"Perhaps it was more of a risk than you think, Mildred,"
Steele tells her in a soft voice. He stretches, putting his hand
into his pocket to show her the bullets he's got there. "I
found them in my office."

"You mean the gun wasn't loaded?" she whispers. "You
knew that all the time?" He smiles. "I could have gotten
my head blown off for nothing."

"Well, maybe I can find a use for these later."

"What do you think they want?" she asks.

"One thing's for certain," he tells her, still whispering,
"they chose this building for a reason." He looks at
her. "And they want me." Mildred gives him a concerned
look as Prancer speaks.

"Where is Blitzen, huh?" he asks Dancer. "When
are we getting on with this thing?"

"Relax," Dancer says, sitting as he watches the others,
polishing his gun. "Everything's moving right on schedule."

"What schedule?" Prancer asks. "You're the only
one who KNOWS the schedule!"

Jack, cup of eggnog in hand, says, "You know, if you look
hard enough, there's a silver lining in every cloud."

"Oh yeah?" Dancer asks. "What's yours?"

Jack lifts the cup to his lips, drinks. "Well, I'm here.
And Judith's in Sherman Oaks!" He laughs. "Do you know
that for the past thirteen years, that harpy's told me how to
decorate the tree? 'The star's crooked, Jack.' 'Watch the lights,
Jack.' 'Don't let the them touch the carpet, Jack.' 'Do you WANT
to start a fire, Jack?'" he mocks. "Damn right, I want
to start a fire. Under her." Dancer laughs softly. Jack lifts
his mug. "Here's to captivity. Long may it last."

Dancer shoots the cup, shattering it. "I like you, Eggnog,"
he says, getting up and approaching Jack. "Even if you are
one of those dirty draft dodgers."

"Oh," Jack insists. "I WANTED to go. Desperately.
But the old ticker. What could I do?"

"What every other smart guy did," Dancer accuses.
"Stay home and rake in the bread, while I was up to my elbows
in slime!" The phone rings.

"Answer it," Dancer orders Laura.

She picks it up. "Remington Steele Investigations. Happy
Holidays," she says with a slight sneer. She listens, then
holds the phone to her chest. "It's the Shrew of Sherman
Oaks," she informs them.

Eva tugs Dancer's sleeve. "Sir?" she asks in her
shy, quiet voice, "may I please be excused?" Laura hangs
up. "I have to go to the bathroom. Please? I'm going to embarrass
myself if I don't get to the bathroom."

"I thought you flower children let it all hang out? Why
don't you go behind the plant?" she suggests. "Like
we had to do in the jungle?"

Eva looks upset. Steele says, "There's a bathroom in my
office. No windows. No way out."

Dancer looks at Eva. "Okay," he decides.

She hugs her oversize bag and starts to pass between him and
Jack, but he won't move, so she is forced to go around.

"Uh, yes, Mr. Hastings, I-uh- I-" He looks concerned,
and lowers the mouthpiece to ask Dancer, "By any chance,
did you deliver a Christmas present to Mr. Hastings in my name?"

"Tell him to shut up and look out his window," Dancer
orders.

"Um-Nothing personal, Mr. Hastings, but could you shut
up and look out the window? Yes, sir, that's what I said.
Shut up and look out the window." He tells Laura, "He
says he's gonna break our lease. Never wanted a private investigator
in here in the first place. They attract the wrong sort of people
to his building. Hmm?" he says into the phone. "He's
at the window," he tells Dancer.

"What does he see?" Dancer asks.

"What do you see?" he pulls the phone away from his
ear as Hastings answers. "He sees this building."

Dancer checks his watch. "Tell him to keep watching."

"The advice I get is to keep watching," Steele tells
Hastings.

We see the side of the tower- and suddenly an upper floor explodes
in flames. The lights dim in the office, the building shakes as
if struck by an earthquake. Once things settle, Dancer hands a
paper to Steele.

"Here. Read that to him," he says, joining his two
partners.

Steele looks at the note. "I've just been handed a note
to read to you. 'Unless I receive two million dollars with non-consecutive
serial numbers, by 7:00 tomorrow morning, your building will be
blown up, one floor at a time.'" He hangs up, looking at
Dancer.

"Merry Christmas, everybody," he wishes. "May
we all live to see the New Year." He starts laughing.

***

The next scene begins with "I'll be Home for Christmas".
Prancer is pacing before the doors, and Mildred, eating, frowns
as she hears someone chanting. Turning, she sees Eva sitting cross-legged,
chanting.

In Steele's office, Donner is at the window, and says, "It
doesn't make sense. Nothin's stirrin' out there. Not a car, a
person, nothing. I mean, that wasn't exactly a firecracker that
went off."

Laura and Steele are with Dr. Scabbard across the room, changing
the bandage. "Doesn't anybody know what's going on around
here?" Scabbard asks.

"The Taking of Pelham, 1-2-3," Steele mutters.

"What?" Scabbard asks.

Laura glances at him, then resumes her first aid. "Walter
Matthau, Robert Shaw, United Artists, 1974."

"We're all gonna die like dogs and he's talkin' about
a movie?" Scabbard asks Laura.

"Movies often help Mr. Steele clarify a situation,"
Laura informs him quietly. "That is what you're doing, isn't
it?" she asks.

"Four men take a subway train hostage," he explains.
"They demand ransom or they'll kill all the passengers. The
only problem is, once they get the money, how do they get away?
In a subway? The train's movement is electronically charted from
up above."

Donner comes over. "What are you guys talking about?"
he asks.

"Subway trains," Scabbard informs him.

Donner nods, not understanding, and goes back to the window.

"It seems our captors are in much the same predicament,"
Laura tells Scabbard. "The explosion draws the police, the
police seal off the building- how do the Santas get out?"

"Perhaps- Blitzen holds the key to that," Steele
suggests.

"Well, I'm in no mood to sit around and wait for him and
make fools of us," she tells him.

"Dancer has a gun," Steele reminds her.

"Two, actually," she says, looking toward the other
room.

"It might be helpful to learn if the other Santas are
armed."

"One way to find out," she decides, releasing Scabbard's
foot and starting to rise.

Steele grabs her arm. "Um, that little escapade with the
gun---didn't lower your estimation of me, did it?" he asks.

"In my opinion," she informs him, "both you
and Mildred were far too reckless." They lean toward each
other and he gives her a kiss on the cheek as Scabbard watches.
They look at him, and he laughs nervously.

Laura pats Steele's hand on Scabbard's leg, then takes a deep
breath. She stands, and acts distraught. "This is crazy,"
she insists, as Donner comes over to her.

"Sit," he says.

"This is cruel and inhuman and crazy," she continues.
"Why are you doing this to us? Why are you keeping us here?
What do you want?" she demands to know, shrieking.

He pulls at her arms. "Lady, Lady, I'm not too happy about
things myself, now don't make it any worse!" His beard is
coming loose. He pushes her toward the sofa, where she sits next
to Steele, her head on his shoulder as she pretends to sob.

"Perhaps I can enlist Mildred," Laura suggests, again
between sobs. She gets up and goes to Donner, ignoring his finger
pointing her back to the sofa. "Listen. I need a drink. Can
I get something to drink?"

"Yeah," he says. "And bring me one, too."

Laura goes out to the lobby, the holly that was in her hair
hanging askew as she finds herself confronted by Dancer's leering
stare. Eva is still chanting. Laura goes to Mildred and sits down.

"Judy," Jack says tearfully. "Judy. Judy!"
He's obviously imbibed too much eggnog. Dancer turns to him. "Shh,"
Jack agrees. "She's not a bad woman. Really. She's not mean
intentionally. She doesn't even know she's nagging me to death.
She just wants the best for me. And the kids." He's crying.
"She stays at home. And cooks, and cleans. There's always
a fresh pie in the oven. Does the kids homework for them,"
he really starts crying. "God, I miss her."

"I liked you better when you didn't," Dancer tells
him.

"Oh, please. Let me call her." He gets down on his
knees. "Let me tell her how much I love her. She deserves
to hear that. I haven't said that to her in--five years."
He starts crying again.

"No, I'm sorry, Eggnog, gotta keep the lines open."

"Oh, Judith!" Jack cries. "How can I make this
up to you?"

"Hey, you really wanna do something for your old lady?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Come here," Dancer says, pulling him to his feet.
"How much insurance you got?"

"Why?" Jack asks.

Dancer points to the end of his gun. "One pill,"
he puts his hand at the back of Jack's head, "back of the
head. Quick, painless. A great Christmas present. Everytime she
spends a dime, she thinks of you."

"I don't love her THAT much," Jack tells him.

Mildred and Laura are in shock.

Prancer goes to Eva, who's still sitting, chanting. "Put
a lid on it, will ya?" he asks. When she ignores him, he
hits her shoulder. "Hey, you, girlie! Shut up!"

"I'm not here," she says in a sing-song voice. "I'm
in a green space. The sun is warm on my face a cold breeze rippling
my hair. Peace and contentment far away from this foul, vicious
place." She starts chanting again.

"Leave her alone," Dancer tells Prancer. "She's
a flower child. Filled with peace and love for all mankind, ain't
that right, dipsy?"

Eva pauses in her chanting, then resumes, this time with her
hands over her ears, and her chant is louder.

"Hey, I bet you used to run around sticking flowers in
guns, huh?"

Eva stops chanting, lowers her hands and glares at him. "If
I had a gun now, I'd know where I'd stick it," she declares
and moves away.

Dancer turns to Laura and Mildred. "You see? It don't
take much to push even the most peaceful soul over the edge."

Laura stands up to confront him. "I bet you enjoy that,
don't you? Pushing people over the edge?"

"Everybody's gotta have a hobby," Dancer tells her
as Mildred tries to pull Laura back.

"Then what DID you sign on for, Donner?" Laura asks
as Mildred continues to pick at the snacks from the plate she'd
holding.

"PRANCER!" he declares. "I'm Prancer, for God's
sakes!"

"Sorry," Laura apologizes.

"He said all I had to do was sit on some people for five
hours, I'd walk away with five grand. Five grand on Christmas
ain't nothin' to sneeze at. I been out of work for eight months,
they cut off my unemployment. My kids- they walk around with newspapers
in their shoes like it's the damned Depression or something! I
don't care about the dough now. I just wanna walk away with my
skin." He goes to the doors and looks out.

"Whoever it is, once I get him out, build a fire in the
wastebasket. It has to be absolutely white hot, so use as much
paper as you can possibly find." He pulls out the bullets.
"Then throw these in."

Scabbard looks at the bullets. "What for?"

"If we're living right, they should explode. Hopefully
diverting Dancer long enough for me to get his gun."

Scabbard is frightened. "I don't think I can do that,"
he says.

Steele puts his hands over Scabbard's shoulders. "Ordinary
men, in extraordinary situations, often find courage they never
knew they had. I think you're that kind of man, doctor. And if
that appeal doesn't sway you, then think of your branch office
in Encino."

"Give me the bullets," Scabbard tells him.

Steele hands them over and leaves. Donner is outside. "He's
alright?"

"Sure, it's just nerves, like the rest of us. Shall we
see what's keeping Miss Holt with those drinks?"

"Yeah," Donner agrees, but pauses. "I don't
know how I got roped into this. Well, that's not true. I wanted
the money."

"Think you'll live to spend it?" Steele asks.

"I wanted it to hire a lawyer. I go to trial next week,
you know, a little job that went sour. Three years in the slammer
don't look so bad right now."

"You could help us," Steele suggests.

Donner pauses. "Go against Dancer?" he asks, scared
at the thought. Steele nods. "I'll take my chances with the
cops," he decides.

They go out to the main room just as the phone rings. Dancer
answers it. "Yeah It took you guys long enough to get
here Hey, hold onto your pants. He'll be out in a minute."
He hangs up and tells Steele, "You go talk to the guys in
blue. Let em know how serious we are. And tell 'em to make way
for Blitzen."

Prancer unlocks the door for him, and Steele opens it, hands
in the air. He goes down the hall to find a SWAT team waiting-
along with an angry looking man in a suit.

"Steele?" the SWAT team leader asks.

The suited man asks, "WHAT are you doing to my building?
Now, you march right around back in there and tells those-those
hoodlums that the authorities take a very DIM view of the destruction
of private property."

"What about the people in there?" Steele asks, angry.

Hastings shrugs. "Well, them, too, of course."

"How many hostages?" the leader asks.

"Seven, including me. Then there's Dancer, Donner, and
Prancer."

"Reindeer?" the leader asks in a serious tone.

"Code names. They're all dressed up as Santas."

"How apropos," Hastings sneers.

"Only one's armed. He's the most dangerous."

"The bomb squad's going through the building now,"
the leader tells him. "So far, nothing."

"They're waiting for another Santa- Blitzen. He's the
one with the escape plan, so you'd better send him on through."

"What about tear gas?"

"First whiff, he'll shoot anything that moves."

"Alright, we'll come up with something."

"Come up with two million," Steele tells them.

Hastings hedges. "Well, I have to make a few phone calls,
first, to see if my insurance covers this sort of thing-"

Steele grabs Hastings' shirt and presses him against the wall.
"I don't care about your insurance company, MISTER Hastings!
The one in there they call Dancer is a road company Rambo. If
he doesn't get the money, everyone's gonna be a casualty. Do you
understand that?"

"If I have to take it to the Supreme Court, I am going
to break your lease!" Hastings declares.

The sound of gunshots fills the air, and Steele groans. "Aw,
dammit, doc!"

IN the offices, Dancer heads toward Steele's office to investigate
the gunshots, and falls over the chair that Eva had been sitting
in. He falls, and the gun goes flying. Laura grabs it as Steele
runs in. Prancer tries to shoot him with the Agency gun.

"It's not loaded," he realizes, and Steele sends
him down with a right cross.

Eva, standing behind Laura, rushes toward the door, crying,
"I have to get out of here!" She pushes Laura aside,
causing Laura to fall, losing the gun. Dancer falls on it as Steele
gets to him.

When Dancer turns over, the gun is pointing at Steele's chest.
"I'd love to splatter that pretty face all over this room,"
he declares.

Scabbard comes to the door, smiling. "Hey, Steele! How
did I do-" He notices what's going on and his smile vanishes.

Dancer stands up. "One blink, one twitch, one sneeze that
I don't know about, and none of you people are gonna be around
to read about what a terrifying time you had."

A Santa knocks on the door, and Prancer runs over and opens
it. "Blitzen! Thank God!"

"Sorry I'm late," the new Santa declares, his speech
slurred by drink, "but what the hell. The party's still goin'
on."

"Blitzen?" Prancer asks.

"Felix Creedle," he replies. "I wanna ask you
a question. What's goin' on here? I know I'm a little bit late.
But is that any reason to hire three Santa Clauses?" he asks.
"Besides, I have been entertaining kids all afternoon, and
I needed a little something to steady my nerves." Steele
crosses his arms in consternation. "HEY! Lighten up! Didn't
anybody tell ya its Christmas Eve?" When no one laughs, he
sits back on the desk. "Boy, this is one tough room."

***

The next morning, as we view the burned out side of the building
to the strains of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas",
the SWAT team leader joins his group on the eleventh floor to
ask, "Any word from Hastings?" His man shakes his head
no. The leader looks at his watch.

Laura is sitting on the ledge of Steele's office window. "Christmas
was always one of my favorite holidays," she tells him as
he sits at the desk. "It was the one day of in year when
everyone seemed to get along with everyone else. Even my mother."
They smile. "And my father. He'd always give me a box of
parlays."

"What's that?" Steele asks her.

"Candy," she replies. "It's my favorite candy
in the whole world."

"Oh."

"Christmas doesn't hold any special memories for you,
does it?"

"I remember one," he tells her. "I saw this
father and his son. They were walking in the snow, hand in hand.
The boy was about my age. Ten or eleven. He had a sled, and- I
don't know why I followed them. I told myself it was for
the sled, I was going to snatch it from the boy-sell it for a
couple of quid, see if I could buy myself a place to kip that
night. But that wasn't it at all," he confesses. "I
just wanted to see-"

"What?"

"They went up the steps. Small house, nothing fancy. If
I hung over the railings, I could look into the front room."
He tilts his head and looks as if he can see the scene in his
mind still. "There was a Christmas tree. Presents. Not a
lot. People. Smiling. All warm and loving."

"What did you do?" Laura asks.

"Threw a rock through the window and ran like hell,"
he tells her, and laughs. "Oh, dear."

She comes over to him as he puts on his watch. "One flexible
flyer coming up," she promises.

Steele puts his hands on her head and pulls her to him for
a long kiss, then another one.

***

In the reception area, Allison is sitting on the sofa, Felix's
head in her lap. He's practically passed out. Allison looks tearful.
Jack is sitting at Mildred's desk, head down. Mildred and Donner
come in. "I made some fresh coffee," she announces.
Donner puts a tray with cups on the desk.

"Hey, Eggnog," Dancer asks, "What time you got?"

"Twenty to seven," Jack responds with a look at his
watch.

"One way or another, it won't be long now," Dancer
tells them.

Allison stands up, sending Felix to the floor as she announces,
"I want a baby!"

Felix, lying on the floor, mutters, "Just one more, chick.
I gotta entertain some idiots in Century City."

Allison looks down at him, then steps over him. "I know
what you're thinking. Allison Green's got it made! She's the perfect
woman of the eighties! And why shouldn't you? I do all the correct
eighties things. I read 'Cosmo', shop Bloomingdale's, drive a
Beemer. So you tell me, can ANY of you tell me WHY am I so unfulfilled?"
she concludes on a teary note. "Why do I feel so empty? So
meaningless? I was going to work at home today. Christmas Day.
I was going to eat my three hundred calorie frozen noodles Romanoff,
and try to come up with a new way to sell feminine hygiene products
to people who don't want them! And don't NEED them! I'm warm.
Loving. I want to give. Nurture something that has some- meaning
in life. Something worthwhile. And now I'm gonna die before I
even have the chance! I want a baby."

"Come over here, sweetie," Dancer offers. "I
think I can help you out."

She's horrified at the idea. "Yuck!" she declares.

***
The SWAT leader looks at his watch again. "Alright, men,
saddle up!" His men cock their guns.

***

Dancer checks Jack's watch. It's 7:00. "Well, children,
looks like we all get a free trip to the Promised Land."
The phone rings. "Yeah? Well, you got in just under
the wire, pal." He hangs up. " The money's here."
He looks around, then points at Eva. "YOU. You go get it."

"Me? Why me?" she asks. "I don't wanna go out
there."

"I'll go," Steele offers. "I was the one who
established contact with them."

"No," Dancer insists. "She goes." He grabs
her and lifts her.

"My purse!" Eva cries. "Everything I own is
in it!" Dancer carries her to the door, and the other two
shove her out, while Dancer turns to keep the gun on the others.
"Don't shoot!" Eva yells. "Please don't shoot!"
She walks toward the SWAT team.

"Okay," Prancer says, "We got the dough, now
how do we get out of here with it?" he asks Dancer. "Huh?"

"That was Blitzen's end, wasn't it?" Laura asks.

"How was he gonna do it?" Donner wonders.

"Plastic explosives," Dancer suggests. "Tie
em to the slugs. Pressure point detonators. You know, like hand
grenades without a pin. The cops drop us, they blow sky high."

Laura says into the phone, "She was supposed to bring
the money back here."

"What the hell is going on here?!" Dancer yells,
furious at the change in plans.

(MISSING SCENE?)

***

In the elevator, Eva presses the button for every floor, then
gets off and carries the case full of money to a Maintenance closet,
which she opens with a key after looking around. She goes inside.

Back in the office, they empty Eva's bag onto Mildred's desk.
It's filled with some unusual items. Steele picks one, a metal
box with an antenna up and tells them, "Remote control detonator."

"She set off the explosion," Laura realizes. "When
she went into the bathroom."

Mildred turns on the tape recorder. We hear a man saying, "When
the money arrives, select the plant lady, no matter how much she
protests."

Laura looks at Dancer. "Is that Blitzen?" she asks.

He nods, and Allison asks, "Why record something you're
going to say on the telephone?"

"Unless," Steele says thoughtfully, taking the recorder
and making a speed adjustment before rewinding the tape. He presses
the play button again.

This time, it's Eva's voice. "When the money arrives,
select the plant lady, no matter how much she protests."

"You'd record it so you can change the speed of the tape
to sound like something you're not," Laura informs Allison.
"A man."

"She's Blitzen," Mildred realizes.

The phone rings, and Steele answers. "Steele here Hmm?"
He holds the phone down to tell the others, "She never reached
the lobby. For your information, Captain, the little lady with
the two million dollars is also the author of this Kafkaesque
drama Yeah, keep in touch Yeah, okay." He hangs
up. "They're starting a floor by floor search," he tells
Laura.

She looks at the Santas. "You've been had, pal. She never
intended for any of you to escape." Looking at Mildred, she
wonders, "But how is she gonna do it? I mean, there is a
sea of blue down there."

Steele gets an idea, just as Laura gets the same one. They
turn to each other. "That's IT!"

Eva comes out of the Maintenance room, now dressed as an LAPD
motorcycle cop, replete with helmet and sunglasses. She's put
the money into a canvas bag, and starts down the hallway to the
stairs.

Laura picks up the phone, and starts dialing. But Dancer lifts
his gun. "Put it down."

"She'll get away!" Laura insists.

"I WANT her to," Dancer says. "If it's the last
thing I do, I'm going to hunt her down, and then I'm going to
squeeze that two million out of her, penny by penny." He
grabs Allison. "Hello, sweetie. Now let's you and me see
if those 300 calorie dinners can stop a bullet."

"NO!" Allison cries, breaking away from him.

Mildred grabs the coffee pot and tosses the hot liquid into
Dancer's face, causing him to drop the gun and put his hands to
his face, falling to the floor, screaming.

The other two Santas make a break for it, but Steele hits one,
and Laura elbows the other. Mildred grabs the gun and holds it
on Prance and Donner. "Okay, one blink, one twitch, one sneeze
I don't know about, and you'll be home for Christmas in a box."

"Nicely put, Mildred," Steele says, then steps over
the still whining Dancer, Laura right behind.

"Mildred," Laura says, "Call the lobby, tell
them what to look for."

Eva walks through the lobby, unnoticed, seconds before the
elevator door opens and Steele lifts his hands with a nervous
smile. "I'm Remington Steele!" he tells the officers
who point their rifles at he and Laura.

Arms also raised, Laura says, "I'm with him."

They come out and hear a motorcycle starting. "How are
your instincts?" Steele asks Laura.

"Same as yours."

"Let's go," he says, taking off.

Outside, Eva pulls her bike out onto the street. Laura and
Steele come out and jump onto a second LAPD bike, and take off
after her.

They catch up to her, and Laura jumps from one bike to the
back of the other. She and Eva struggle for control of the bike,
winding up crashing into a Christmas tree stand. As Sonny Averona
sings, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," Laura
grabs Eva and tosses her into a fake snowbank, where she lays,
stunned.

Laura lifts her hands and gives her the "peace" sign.

***

Back at the office, Jack is getting ready to leave. "You
know, all things considered, it wasn't such a bad Christmas party.
I wouldn't mind making it an annual event." Laura laughs,
Steele grimaces. "But next year," he adds, "I'm
gonna bring Judith."